


and show me where you run to (when no one's left to take your side)

by katebishoop



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Nightmares, Post-Season/Series 02, Serious Injuries, title from Angels on the Moon by Thriving Ivory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 04:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5613814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katebishoop/pseuds/katebishoop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy finds Clarke with an arrow in her gut.</p><p>They heal, together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and show me where you run to (when no one's left to take your side)

**Author's Note:**

> You can tell me all your thoughts  
> About the stars that fill polluted skies  
> And show me where you run to  
> When no one's left to take your side  
> But don't tell me where the road ends  
> 'Cause I just don't wanna know  
> No I don't wanna know  
> \- Angels on the Moon; Thriving Ivory

He finds her at the cliff where Charlotte had jumped. 

He wasn't looking for her, not particularly. He tended to pass this spot on the way back from his hunting trips and trade missions.

But this time, after three months, there she was. She was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree.

An arrow lodged in her gut.

He almost hadn't recognized her - her hair was much longer, dark red, and she'd been covered in blood - but, he knew. He could tell, after a stunned moment, that it was her.

"Clarke!" Bellamy was at her side, she was still breathing - thank god, she was still breathing - "Clarke, can you hear me?"

Clarke's eyes fluttered for a second but could barely remain open for long. She was muttering and Bellamy could make a few words out such as  _Dad_ and _missed_ and _took so long_ and  _I'm dead._

"Clarke, you're not dead," Bellamy wasn't sure if Clarke could even hear him, but he was mostly reassuring himself. There was no way she could die, not after he just found her again. "Clarke, I need you to stay with me,  _Clarke_ -" His voice cracked when her head lolled to the side.

He quickly looked at her wound: it was more to the side, but Bellamy couldn't tell if it had hit anything important. He couldn't risk removing it yet. Carefully, he scooped Clarke up into his arms, making sure not to move the arrow.

Clarke's mutterings became more fevered; he could here  _I'm coming_  and  _Wells_  and  _forgive_.

"You're not dying on me," Bellamy whispered as he hurried through the forest, " _may we meet again_ , you promised."

But Clarke's mutterings turned to groans, and Bellamy picked up the pace.

* * *

 Bellamy could tell that he wouldn't be able to make it all the way back to Camp Jaha before things got really bad, so he took her to the bunker instead where he had taught her to shoot so long ago.

Bellamy set Clarke down gently and examined her wound again. He'd- he'd have to risk it. Bellamy took a deep breath and pushed the arrow all the way through. Clarke groaned, and a few tears were rolling down her cheeks and all Bellamy could think was that  _she needs to stay alive - alive alive alive._

He broke the arrow and slid it out; Clarke barely moved at that, so maybe it didn't hit anything important? Bellamy didn't even know if the arrow was poisoned - did it look poisoned? - what was he going to do if it was poison-?

_Breathe._

Bellamy ripped his pack and jacket off and took off his shirt. He ripped the bottom strip off and tied it around Clarke's abdomen, above the wound. He bunched up his jacket and stuck it under her head before going around and gathering scraps to start a fire.

Looking at her now, he's reminded of when she collapsed because of the virus and he had just stood there. Or when she'd been knocked on the head by the Grounders looking for Finn and he had hovered over her until she came to. 

Bellamy stuck his knife into the fire, getting it ready to cauterize the wound. With his free hand, he held onto one of Clarke's. 

_You're not allowed to die._

* * *

 It was around two in the morning maybe when Clarke started convulsing. 

Bellamy had been sure, since so much time had passed, that there wasn't any poison on the blade. 

He was so stupid - stupid - how could he-?

"Bell-" 

Bellamy's head snapped up from where he was checking the wound, which didn't look infected at all - to her face. Clarke's eyes were still closed, scrunched up, her head shaking like she was trying to get away from someone.

"Bellamy-" He hadn't imagined it, she'd said his name. "don't- don't hurt him-"

Bellamy grabbed her hand, and with the other he stroked a hand across her hair, settling on her cheek, "Clarke, I'm here, I'm here," he whispered, hoping she'd hear it and understand. That he was here. That he was safe, that they were safe.

"-I care about him more-"

_"-no, no no no-"_

_"-Bellamy-"_

"-I was being weak-"

_"-DON'T-"_

Her nightmare lasted hours, and Bellamy's heart broke each time she said his name.

* * *

He knew camp would be worried that he hadn't come back. At this point he was hoping they'd send a search party and find them, because Bellamy was afraid to risk moving Clarke. Whoever shot her with that arrow could still be out there.

But someone with more experience and medical knowledge would have to look at her wound soon. 

And with that, Bellamy put back on what was left of his shirt, carefully picked up Clarke, and headed back towards camp.

Clarke wasn't struggling in her sleep as much, anymore. Her head rested against his shoulder as he made the walk. There were new scars on her face.

_What have you gotten yourself into._

Bellamy sighed in relief and quickened his pace as Camp Jaha appeared in his sights.

Kane was the one who let him in at their new, advanced gate. And he was with - Indra?

"Blake, where have you been? You're sister set out a few hours ago looking for you." Kane asked as he approached, eyeing the body in his arms - which had confused Bellamy a minute, but then he remembered, Clarke's hair was red now - "Who are you-?"

"Where's Abby?" Bellamy cut him off, "she needs-"

Bellamy noticed that Indra recognized Clarke, before Kane, but only a little.

And when Kane realized who Bellamy was holding, he began shouting for people - get Jackson, get Abby - and ushering Bellamy along to the med bay.

Bellamy was only vaguely aware of Indra following them, his vision was tunneling he realized he hadn't ate anything in over twenty-four hours, but he just needed to get Clarke safe.

He and Kane burst into the med bay and thankfully Abby and Jackson were already there.

"What's-?" Abby's gave a sharp intake of breath, and then barely a whisper, like she couldn't even believe it herself, "Clarke."

"I found her-" Bellamy began as he set her down on the table, "she had an arrow in her stomach, I got it out and cauterized the wound but I don't know-"

Abby was already ripping Clarke's shirt furiously and examining the wound, rattling off medical instruments to Jackson.

Suddenly Abby turned to him, "do you have the arrow? Do you still have the arrow?"

"Ye-yeah," Bellamy dug into his pack, scrambling, and thrust the two pieces at her.

Abby took them, "I need the room clear," she said, and then to Bellamy only: "thank you."

* * *

It took a lot of fighting to get Bellamy out of the medical bay, but they won over, eventually, when he nearly passed out. He didn't go far though, he sat in front of the med bay doors and refused to move. Kane sent someone for some food for Bellamy, but he couldn't stomach anything without knowing how Clarke was.

"Indra had arrived just before you did, with a warning," Kane said. He and Indra were towering over him from where he sat on the floor. "She said that Clarke was being hunted."

Indra gave a nod, "The  _Wanheda_  is the most fearsome, the most powerful of warriors. The Azgeda don't want the Wanheda with the Alliance, and others want her head for glory."

Bellamy looked up at the Grounder, "And what does the Commander want with Clarke?" Bellamy asked, stone-faced, "To use her, or to kill her?"

"Why don't we continue this conversation elsewhere?" Kane said, and Bellamy glared after the two as they left him.

* * *

"You can come in now." Jackson said from the doorway and Bellamy was on his feet in seconds.

Inside, Abby was just finishing up the stitches on Clarke's wound.

Bellamy was struck by how... still, Clarke looked. Peaceful. Dead. Either one.

Abby looked up at him when he sat on the other side of Clarke's bed. "There was a little internal bleeding, but we got her all patched up. You did good with her."

Bellamy relayed to Abby everything that happened, again, because she looked like she wanted to hear it. He left out the specifics of her mutterings, but gave her the genreal idea: that Clarke was out of it.

They sat in silence for a while, each holding one of Clarke's hands, both stunned that Clarke was here. Like it was unbelievable, and neither could let go or she'd disappear again.

Then Kane entered, alone this time. "How is she?"

Bellamy didn't pay attention to the rest of their conversation.

* * *

Kane had decided that with their being a price on Clarke's head, they shouldn't let anyone know about her being here. At least not until she's awake.

But Octavia, you couldn't keep Octavia away from her brother. She had found him on another bed, pushed closed to hers, asleep with his hand holding on to her limp one.

He'd woken up when she'd entered, because only Kane and Jackson and Abby were supposed to be in there besides him.

He knows his sister is still angry with Clarke, and he has no idea what she's going to do. She's standing there staring at her, staring at their hands, for a long time when Octavia finally says: "I liked her better as a blonde."

Bellamy gives his sister a soft smile and squeezes Clarke's hand. 

"I do, too."

But Octavia doesn't look to be in a light hearted mood. "What happens when she wakes up, Bellamy?"

Bellamy opens his mouth as if to speak, and then closes it again. "When we were still out there, she's was raving in her sleep, she was delirious and confused," he began, his eyes never leaving Clarke, "she thought she was dead, kept repeating about her father and Wells." He brushes a strand of hair off her forehead. "She said my name, O. She kept repeating it. She was pleading with someone for my life. I- I'm not losing her again Octavia, and she isn't losing me.

There was a heavy silence, and the rift between Octavia and himself, he could feel it.

"It's your funeral, Bellamy." Octavia said before she walked out.

* * *

Three days had passed and Clarke was still unconscious.

Bellamy had all his meals brought to him, usually by Abby, who would sit with the both of them until she was needed elsewhere.

When Abby wasn't around, Bellamy would tell Clarke stories. He'd tell her about how they built all their new structures, how they took apart the drop ship to use for parts. He'd tell her about how Miller was a full-fledged member of the guard now, he'd tell her about Octavia's horse. He told her how Jasper, Monty, and Harper were doing. He told her about everything that wasn't worrisome.

He told her that they, that he missed her. That she needed to wake up, because he couldn't do this without her anymore.

On the fourth day, Clarke wakes up.

* * *

"Bellamy?"

Bellamy's head snapped up to meet Clarke's eyes - Clarke's blue, Clarke's _open_ eyes.

"Where-?" Clarke looked around, nervous and shaky, "What's going on?"

Bellamy gripped onto Clarke's hand, and his heart did a little leap when she squeezed back.

"You got hit by an arrow. I found you and got you back here. Your mom was able to patch it up."

Clarke didn't look like she was registering the information; her eyes were darting around, searching wildly around the room, avoiding his.

"I need to go." Clarke tried to get her hand out of his grasp, and Bellamy's heart tanked then. "They can't know I'm here - everyone is in danger - I have to go!"

Bellay stood up and gently pressed Clarke's shoulders back, "Clarke, Clarke it's okay. You’re safe. We know about the Ice Nation-"

"No one else is going to die because of me." Clarke's eyes glassy, and they were staring at nothing over his shoulder, her breathing erratic, her chest heaving. "They can't find me here, they'll tear everyone apart-"

"Clarke," Bellamy wouldn't let Octavia be right, not this time. "You're safe here. Trust me, please." His free hand cupped her cheek, and she leaned into the touch, it calmed her, just a little bit. "Only a few people even know your here."

"Who?"

"Your mom, and Jackson, and Kane and Octavia," Bellamy was debating whether or not say the last name, but. He could never lie to her, "and Indra. But that's only because she was here to warn us about the people hunting you when I came back."

"We weren't going to tell anyone you were back, at least not until you were awake," Bellamy began again, "we wanted to see what you would do."

It hangs there, like a fishing hook waiting for a tug. The question, the big question.

_Are you going to leave again?_

Clarke doesn't speak again until her breathing has slowed and become even: "What time is it?"

"Around eleven at night," Bellamy said, and then answers her unasked question, "Your mom has already gone to bed."

Clarke relaxes at that, and straightens ups where she sits, Bellamy's hand falling from her face, but he doesn't let go of the other one.

"I don't think I'm ready to face her," Clarke's biting her lip, "I don't know if I'm ready to face you either."

Bellamy breaths deeply. He was upset that she left, he was angry, but he understood. And any negative emotions he felt had dissipated as soon as he saw her. "You already have my forgiveness Clarke, you always did. You don't have anything to worry about."

The little smile she gives him is enough.

* * *

It's closer to one in the morning now. 

He's given her the rest of his sandwich that he didn't eat, and they are facing each other, each on their own bed.

"I," she said after a bite, "I first went back to the drop ship, to say goodbye to Wells."

Bellamy freezes. He hadn't been pressing her, but there she was, opening up.

"Then I wandered around for a while. Lived in caves, kept to myself." Clarke looks down at the ground. "I made the mistake of going into a village, to trade. They recognized me. They called me the  _Wanheda_ , the Commander of Death. They tried to capture me, but I got away."

"That's when you, uh-" Bellamy gestures to her hair.

Clarke takes a strand of her long locks between her fingers, "Yeah. The main descriptor they had was  _golden haired_ , so." Clarke clears her throat, "I had wanted to come back, but after I found out what they were calling me, what exactly that  _meant_ , I knew I couldn't."

Bellamy opens his mouth to protest but Clarke cuts him off, "But here you are, Bellamy Blake, messing up my plans, like old times." She's got this, lost, sad smile on her face, like she's remembering the  _old times._ The old times, when they only had to worry about one hundred lives and one Grounder tribe.

Bellamy slides off his bed and goes so he's standing right in front of her. He takes both of her hands into his, "Clarke," He twists out a knot in his neck, trying to put things into words, "I know you're scared, but from what I know, it's that we're better together."

Bellamy is not going to lose her again. "Before I took you back here, I had brought you to that bunker, the one where we found the guns?" He sees the recognition in her eyes and takes that as a sign to keep going. "I got the arrow out and closed your wound as best I could, but you weren't ready to move yet. You were rambling, barely conscious." Clarke's frozen now, waiting with baited breath, like she knows what's coming. "You were saying my name, and you sounded worried, like it was me who was the one that was dying-"

Clarke launches herself foreword then, her arms latching themselves around his neck and her face burrowing into his chest.

Bellamy’s arms go around her and hold her there. He strokes her back, his face going down into her hair.

He whispers: “Shh, shh, it’s okay, I’m not going anywhere, I’m safe, you’re safe, _Clarke_ -” as she cries.

* * *

When she’s not asleep, she is pretending to be. She’s not ready to face her mom yet.

She’s not ready to make the decision that comes with officially waking up.

Bellamy plays along; he’s more than happy to keep Clarke to himself for now.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Clarke said, for maybe the hundredth time, and she rushed forward before Bellamy could remind her of that fact, “about sending you into Mount Weather.”

“Clarke-“

“No, no let me finish,” Clarke tucks her hair behind her ears. She’s staring intently at her hands, wringing them together as she talks, “I know we needed you in there, we couldn’t have done it without you in there, but.” Clarke shakes her head, “I told you that your life was worth the risk, Bellamy. I just threw that in your face and I’m sorry.”

Bellamy sits down next to her, carefully sliding an arm around her shoulders.

“I had told you that I was being weak, and that you were worth the risk,” Clarke’s voice is harder now, angry, “But, you don’t- I’m never putting letting anyone use you – use me use you – again. Okay?”

Bellamy rubs circles into her back, “Okay.” He’s gets what she’s saying: that she doesn’t want either of them to be pawns in someone else’s game. But his life, to him, for her, is worth the risk. But that’s a fight for another time.

“Lexa had told me that love is weakness,” Clarke’s voice is small, “and I was being weak when it came to you.”

Bellamy pauses a moment, letting the words sink in. He then leans over and plants a kiss into her hair.

* * *

Octavia comes to see him that day, during one of the times that Clarke was pretending to be asleep.

“You really going to sit here forever and just wait for her to break you?” Octavia demands, and Bellamy is glad that she’s glaring at him and not Clarke because Clarke is failing at not reacting right now.

“I’ll always wait for her,” He’s telling Clarke as much as he’s telling Octavia, “and she isn’t going to break me O, she never has.”

That’s a bit of a stretch, they both know it, both know how he was when she left.

Octavia storms out without another word.

* * *

“Did you mean what you told Octavia?”

It’s closer to five in the morning now; the camp will be waking up soon. He had been telling her all of the things he told her while she had truly been asleep, and he honestly had been wondering when she’d bring that up.

“I did.”

They are quiet for a long time. His arm is around her, their breaths are in sync.

Then, she asks, taking a lock of hair in her hands: “can you help me wash this out?”                      

She’s made her decision.

Bellamy was right.

“Close your eyes,” he tells her before he gets the water in the decontamination shower going. Is it to protect her eyes? Yes. Is it so that she doesn’t see the dye go down the drain, looking like blood?

Yes.

She’s leaning over, her head into the shower, and Bellamy carefully lathers in soap at the roots as she works on the ends. He has to rinse several times just to check if it’s all gone.

When it’s done and dry, it’s still got a pink hue to it but it is clearly Clarke. There’s no mistaking it.

* * *

When Abby sees that Clarke’s up and awake, she rushes her and they embrace.

Bellamy leaves so they can have a moment to themselves. Clarke’s ready for it.

* * *

Octavia gives him a knowing look when he sees him outside, but doesn’t say anything.

Bellamy grabs Monty first. She needs to adjust to being around so many people again.

Monty does the same thing Abby did when she saw Clarke: charge her and wrap her into a big embrace.

Later, Raven does the same. Miller and Harper are more subdued, but the love is still there.

Later that night, all of them are with Clarke eating around her bed. She looks a little uncomfortable; she hasn’t been around this many people that weren’t trying to kill her in a long time.

Octavia comes in then, and Clarke looks like a deer in headlights. Lincoln’s in the doorway, and gives them all a small smile.

“You’re staying then?” Octavia demands.

Clarke swallows the bite of food she had. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Octavia pauses, then gives a gruff acknowledgement before coming in and sitting with Lincoln, stealing a bite of Bellamy’s sandwich.

* * *

“You ready?” Bellamy’s hand is in hers, squeezing gently.

They are standing in front of the med bay doors. Clarke hasn’t left the room since she got there, but.

Everything’s about to change.

She looks up at him, and Bellamy sees so many things. He sees hurt and confusion and fear and anxiety. But he also sees the future: a future that involves the word _together_. It’ll take time, but they both know they’re headed in the right direction.

“Ready.”

And just knowing was enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


End file.
